Not Much
by Kae-Lae
Summary: It may not have been much, but for the headmaster, it was enough.


Disclaimer: The brilliance that is J.K Rowling owns Harry Potter and co. the story I made up myself.

WARNING: I'm ignoring HBP in this story. Hope you like it.

Not Much

It may not have been much, but for the headmaster, it was enough.

"Ahh, yes, what with the sharp and intelligent friends you possess backing you up, I'm sure you would even get far before something would go wrong." He mocked, his face showing nothing but a smirk, but his eyes telling a different story. He was nearing victory he could feel it. Oh how he loved to win, especially against her, in an argument she had started no less. He was use to this sort of banter between himself and her, it was as if the pent up frustration and hate between both houses were released when they were in a battle of the wits. Both smart to the point of brilliance and both as proud of there house as the next person. His smirk grew, he may not have made a brilliant point but he was just getting warmed up. He was just getting a little jab at the bodyguards in, before he went in for the kill.

She hadn't responded yet, and she wasn't sure if she was going to. Her face remained emotionless as an argument was being fought behind her eyes. She remembered back to a conversation between herself and the headmaster not long before her current situation. How he had asked why she always picked fights and arguments with Draco Malfoy. Why she responded to his remarks and abuse, why she, Hermione Granger, couldn't be the bigger one, take the high road and just ignore him. He asked why she must add fuel to the ever burning hatred that was taking a grip of his school. He asked her, to stop, to just stop being childish and not allow these arguments to continue, to stop this hatred and just let go. She couldn't do it anymore, now that she remembered that talk. She had to stop, for him, her headmaster and for herself.

She could see how both houses looked forward to these "meetings", how they would back up the person from their house and feed on seeing them tear each other apart in the name of house pride. How after every argument she would cry herself to sleep, thinking of the things he said and reminding herself that they weren't true. She could even see it in his eyes, although usually blank, they came to life in their battles. She could see unshed tears when she pushed touchy subjects and when she went too far. No more, if they, her fellow schoolmates, want to tear each other apart, by all means, but she wasn't going to, she wasn't going to let herself be torn up anymore.

She gave him a look, saying he was both immature and that she gave up. Then she walked out, just as confidently as she had walked in. Head held high, book bag thrown over her shoulder, she strutted away from the crowd, outside. She walked away with a feeling happiness and pride, for once she had done something for herself, she had done something that is both selfish but at the same time isn't. She had taken the higher road, just like the headmaster had asked.

His expression turned into a sneer, as she had turned her back on him, without so much as another word and walked away, no, she had strutted away. Like she was some higher being and she was doing them all a favour. He looked around to the various faces, which were once enjoying their entertainment. They were now marked with shock, he was sure he even saw some anger amongst them. His mind was reeling, why had she walked off, it was so unexpected; he was dumbfounded as to how to react. Should he be happy and cocky, as he won the battle, but then had he really won? Even he wasn't sure. So instead of facing questions or even worse ridicule for something he had no control over, he followed suit.

He walked away, and while doing so, he couldn't help but feel a little more relieved. She had walked away; surely no more arguments could come of this. He was sick of having to arm himself every encounter, to expect the unexpected, to have to hide emotions of rage and more importantly shame and sadness. He questioned his motives of always engaging in these battles of wits. Why it was him who had to face off in battles constantly, only after just recovering from the last. It was their expectation of him, to fight their fights for them, to say what they wanted and he came to the conclusion he wasn't doing it anymore. No more, if they want to tear each other apart, by all means, but he wasn't going to, he wasn't going to let himself be torn up anymore.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

In his office, shuffled away in a quiet corner of the school an old man sat in his comfy chair and smiled. He had gotten through to one, to the most important of them all. The one behind a lot of the hatred, not all, but too much for one person, he had gotten her to stop fuelling this hatred and in the process, she had stopped the one who was constantly on the end of her hate filled words. He was happy with that for now, it may not be much, but it is enough.

The End

Well I hope you like it, something I have been sitting on for a while.

So Read, Review and Enjoy

Kat

Dedicated to Nyssa


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